


Close Encounters of the Cafe Kind

by Valaxiom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Extremely subtle Sombrya, F/F, Internet cafe, Lesbians, Missing Scene, Post Infiltration, Rip Sombra's Unfinished Cappuccino 2016, Sort-of, Talon - Freeform, but not really, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaxiom/pseuds/Valaxiom
Summary: After the havoc of infiltrating the most secure compound in Russia, Sombra decides to go sight-seeing in Saint Petersburg and ends up in an out-of-the-way internet cafe that reminds her of her youth. Another customer catches her attention.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I love Sombra and I love Zarya and god help me I think I've found my new favourite ship. I wrote this in about an hour when I was supposed to be working on my History of Science Essay. Sorry Dr. Hull.

Perhaps it was foolish to show her face in St. Petersburg so soon after their attack on Ms. Volskaya, but Sombra had never been fond of cowering in hiding places and letting things take their course. It was much more exciting to be out on the streets among the people, listening to the whispers and enjoying the feeling of created, controlled chaos. Besides, no one would expect that one of the infiltrators would stay in the country after pulling an attack on the most esteemed woman in Russia.

With a thick jacket covering her distinct hair and a bland ensemble that was identical to the Russian people milling around her, Sombra fit in perfectly. Well, aside from her complete intolerance for the chilly air- she’d grown up too close to the equator to be comfortable with early-evening in one of the northernmost cities in the world. She sniffled a bit and went to look for an internet café.

Before she’d taken the name Sombra, the young war orphan had spent all of her time in small, cramped cafes, all of them identical to the one in which she found herself. It was crammed with electronics and the sound of fans (or in this place, heaters), and the smells of coffee and burnt wiring. The internet café smelled like home, and for the first time in the last day or so since placing a gun to the forehead of Katya Volskaya, Sombra felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She ordered a cappuccino in passable Russian, then sat in the darkest corner of the shop and watched.

The old monitor in front of her was completely pointless, especially with her enhancements, but Sombra amused herself while she waited for her coffee. By the time a tired-looking young woman brought her the scalding coffee drink, Sombra had updated the computer, then messed with its software until she was fairly confident that the next poor young kid hoping to make it big streaming high-end video games like the famous D.va of Korea would have all their dreams come true thanks to this terminal. She smirked into her coffee as she imagined some random Russian kid becoming the best Starcraft player thanks to her idle tinkering.

Sombra skimmed the front pages of all the major news outlets and saw nothing about a recent attack on Ms. Volskaya. Of course; the company wouldn’t want to start a panic, or give the terrorists any kind of undue recognition. The infiltration would no doubt be written off as a drill. The attackers had failed in their mission, at least according to everyone but Sombra and Katya Volskaya. Talon had been disappointed, yes, but not suspicious of her. Reaper and Widow had been pissed at first, but she’d managed to concoct an airtight explanation by the time the three of them were back in the transport and headed for the rendezvous. If she were to be honest, Sombra was pretty sure that Reaper was still all-too-aware about the unexplained chunk of time when her communicator had fuzzed out, when she was supposed to be assassinating the leader of the corporation.  

It admittedly did not look good when the brightest hacker in the world suddenly lost contact for any amount of time.

Leaning back in the rickety office chair, Sombra yawned a bit, then delved into the highly-classified company emails. Both Lumerico and Volskaya Industries had virtual treasure troves of absolutely fascinating information that the public could never set eyes on, but at the moment, Sombra was merely searching for any altered security protocols or alerts following their breakin.

She had just sighted an important-looking email sent from Katya to the head of the Russian defense force, mentioning in the subject line, “Task force for subduing infiltrators,” when the door to the coffee house opened. Sombra, tucked away in her corner, was able to get a good view of the new patron. It was a woman with bright pink hair and absolutely massive arms. She looked like she could topple an apartment building with an absent-minded slap. She also seemed vaguely familiar, but Sombra couldn’t quite place her.

The woman chatted with the barista in cheerful native Russian. Sombra could catch bits and pieces, but most of it seemed mundane, and her own knowledge of the language was patchy, so she allowed the conversation to fade into background noise. She quickly dove back into her task, opening the email correspondence. It seemed to be Katya requesting specific resources and personnel in order to both track down and neutralize the infiltrators. They apparently hadn’t yet managed to link the presence of herself, Widowmaker, and Reaper to Talon. Sombra snickered at that- good luck on taking down Talon. The organization was massive, all-encompassing, and too hopelessly tangled for a single team of Russian commandos to disable. Even she herself couldn’t hope to take down Talon, not single-handedly at least. And not for lack of trying. There were simply too many variables.

Sombra continued reading. A lot of the email was just descriptions of the attackers, their tactics, and their weaponry. It was missing quite a few details. The cameras hadn’t been able to capture much (and she’d made sure to disable every single camera that could have possibly gotten a glimpse of her), so most of the report was based on witness observations.

At the end of the email were several descriptions of the commandos who had been requested for the manhunt. Sombra scrolled idly- it was mostly muscular guys, military types who had been blessed with both brains and brawn. Then she reached a profile that made her go very still.

Aleksandra “Zarya” Zaryanova. 28 years old, former Olympic candidate, devoted to her country, sturdy soldier. She’d risen with incredible speed in the ranks of the Russian Defense Force, no doubt due to her oft-cited regard for others and truly incredible strength.

She was also currently standing about fifteen feet away from Sombra, ordering a latte to stay and making the barista giggle at her jokes. 

Sombra’s genial mood vanished. No, she wasn’t afraid of some attractively buff Russian soldier- but she was currently exhausted, still a bit wired from stress, and backed into a literal corner. She surveyed her options and resources; her pistol was running low on ammo. Her translocator was sitting, useless, in her pocket. Her thermoptic camo was fully functional, but disappearing with a ‘fzzt’ in the middle of an otherwise-empty café would draw much more attention than she was comfortable with. She’d have to either find another way out, or walk right past the woman who was currently leading the team that was supposed to bring her in.

She wasn’t entirely sure what awaited her if she got captured, but she had a funny feeling that it involved a shallow grave and no questions asked. She knew too much to ever stop being a threat.

She slowly gathered her things (there wasn’t much- just her adapter and gloves), before shrugging her coat back on and hoping that Zarya hadn’t gotten a good look at her face. She pulled the hood down as low as it would go before standing and making her way to the exit, forcing herself to remain calm.

She passed the front counter and the still-bantering women without incident- Zarya had made the tired-looking waitress’s face light up a bit. Sombra caught a hint of her opponent’s smell as she passed- the woman smelled like crushed pine needles and heavy machinery. If she wasn’t currently so concerned about being discovered, Sombra probably would have asked for her number. Or hacked it. Either one, though asking was generally more polite.

Sombra had just started to leave the small internet café when she heard Zarya call out after her.

“Miss! You forgot your coffee!”

_Mierda._

She booked it. Damn how it looked, but she couldn’t risk showing her face. The snowy streets passed by in a blur, and as soon as she was safely out of the café’s line of sight, she immediately activated her thermoptic camo. Sombra breathed a sigh of relief at her narrow escape, but she couldn’t help but take a moment to mourn for her lost cappuccino.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> She never does get to finish that cappuccino. Both Zarya and the barista she was hitting on were super-confused about why this random chick ran out of the cafe so fast. The barista was slightly hurt and offended because she felt that she had perfected the foam on the steamed milk.
> 
> Casual reminder that I've got a tumblr, andshesbackinthegame.tumblr.com! Feel free to follow me!


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